Game of Chance
by Sunset
Summary: Bobby and Irene. Takes place about a year before Enemy Within. Bit of a departure for me.


"Kiss my ass." Max Pierce exclaimed as he stared unbelieving at the cards he held in his hand. With a sigh of regret he tossed the five cards into the middle of the table, where they clinked against the chips. "I'm out."  
  
Sitting next to him, Anna Michaels chuckled softly at Max's run of bad luck. Smiling she picked up two blue chips off the top of her stack, tossing them into the center of the table where they landed on top of Max's abandoned cards. "I'm in."  
  
Bobby picked up the stack of unused cards that sat on the table next to his own piles of chips. "How many Ed?"  
  
"Two please." Edward Kriggle answered. Bobby took the top two cards and slapped them down on the table in front of Ed.  
  
"Maria?"  
  
Maria stared at her cards, considering. "Two for me too." She answered glancing at her watch. "This'll have to be my last hand."  
  
"Sean waiting up for you?" Irene asked.  
  
"Yeah." Maria answered, a big grin spread across her face. Irene grinned back, then glanced at Bobby. He caught the look, but couldn't decipher the meaning behind it. She's been acting strange all night. He thought to himself.  
  
"Irene?" He asked aloud, looking at her.  
  
"What?" Her tone was playful, a change from her usual all business poker playing tone.  
  
"How many cards do you want?"  
  
"Just one please." Irene ran her fingers through her dark brown hair, gathering it at the nape of her neck and held it there a moment before she let it fall back to her shoulders.  
  
What the hell? Bobby thought. She's flirting with me. His eyes betrayed the sudden revelation, and Irene smiled sweetly at him, knowing she had finally gotten through.  
  
"Are we gonna play, or what?" Ed asked.  
  
"Uh, yeah." Bobby's hands pulled the top card off the deck, and sent it sailing across the table, where it landed gracefully in front of Irene.  
  
"Three." Anna answered Bobby's unasked question. Bobby gave her the three cards, taking the next two for himself.  
  
"Dealer takes two." He told the table.  
  
"Max, I'm not sitting next to you anymore. Your bad luck is contagious." Anna said as she tossed her cards into the middle of the table.  
  
"There are worse things to catch." Max answered her, then after realizing what he'd said he added, "But not from me."  
  
"Damn straight not from you."  
  
"Speaking of straight." Maria hinted, "it's your bet Ed."  
  
"Five." Ed said, tossing his chips in.  
  
"To rich for me." Maria squared her cards and placed them neatly face down on the table in front of her. "I got something better waiting at home for me." Her chair legs made a scraping sound against the kitchen floor as she pushed her chair back. "I need to cash out Max."  
  
"Irene?" Ed asked. "You gonna call?"  
  
"Yeah. I'm up for anything." Irene answered Ed, but was looking straight at Bobby.  
  
Ed and Anna both noticed the look and glanced at each other, eyebrows raised.  
  
"That just leaves you, Big Guy." Ed looked at Bobby, wanting to see if he was going to play along with Irene.  
  
"Call." Bobby said simply and tossed his chips in. "And," he paused a moment evaluating his stack of chips. "I'll raise you." his fingers played along the pile of chips ".five."  
  
Ed wanted to concentrate on the sub game that had developed more than he wanted to win. He pitched his cards "I'm out."  
  
"Up to you." Bobby said, looking at Irene.  
  
Irene smiled across the table. "If only that were true." Her eyes didn't leave Bobby's as her fingers tossed her chips into the kitty. "Call."  
  
Standing by the kitchen counter, Anna and Max both picked up on Irene's voice. The game had their full attention.  
  
"Full house." Bobby laid his cards down on the table, face up. "Eights over threes."  
  
Irene's smile got brighter and bigger, Bobby's first thought was that she had a better hand. So he was suddenly confused when she laid her cards on the table, face down. "Yours for the taking." she told him.  
  
Anna, Max, Maria and Ed all looked expectantly from Irene to Bobby, wanting to see what he'd do. Bobby was acutely aware of all the eyes in the room on him, so he did the only thing his confused mind could think of. He reached out and pulled the pot in front of him.  
  
A disappointed air filled the room. Maria sighed deeply and said "Well." She paused, trying to think of something else to say. "Guess I should be going."  
  
"Uh . . . yeah . . .me too." Ed agreed. "Max, cash me out, would ya?" He stood, picking his chips up and carried them to where Max and Maria stood by the counter.  
  
Anna stayed seated, looking from Irene to Bobby and back again. Finally, she shrugged and said "Guess I've lost enough for one night."  
  
In the few moments it took for everyone to change their chips into cash, and for each one to determine if they'd won or lost, Irene never took her eyes off Bobby. He felt captivated, confused, and somehow, condemned.  
  
Max turned away from the counter to face the table, and obliviously said "Irene, you need a ride?"  
  
Before Irene could answer, Maria elbowed Max and rolled her eyes. "What?" Max asked rubbing his side where Maria's elbow had made contact.  
  
"No, thanks anyway Max. I'll stay and help Bobby clean up. I'll catch a cab." Irene answered, only glancing Max's way before returning her gaze to Bobby.  
  
"Well." Ed began, looking around to his friends for help. "Well." He repeated. "Guess we'll be going." But instead of taking steps toward the front door, he stood where he was, watching Irene and Bobby.  
  
"Come on." Maria said, grabbing Ed by the arm and pulling him toward the door.  
  
"Need a machete to get through all this." Anna mumbled under her breath, referring to the tension in the room.  
  
Max stifled a laugh as he followed the other three to the door.  
  
"Good night." Maria called from the entryway. A moment later the door shut and Bobby and Irene were alone.  
  
The kitchen was suddenly silent. Irene was waiting for Bobby to say something, and Bobby didn't have a clue what to say. She could feel his uneasiness, so to break the tension; she began to reach around the table, gathering the discarded cards into her hands. He took her cue and stood, hooking empty and half empty glasses with his fingers and carried them to the sink. He turned on the tap, plugged the drain and squeezed in some dish soap. Still in her seat, Irene watched him carry out the domestic acts. She watched his shoulders, his muscles moving beneath his shirt as his arms worked, washing and rinsing. She was mesmerized by the motions, the symmetry, the beauty of the man before her. So caught up in the movement of his back, she didn't notice him turning around. It wasn't until after she was caught staring that she realized she'd been caught. She forced herself to look him in the eyes, and felt the heat of blush rising in her cheeks. She looked away quickly out of embarrassment, but felt him smiling at her.  
  
Coming back to the table, Bobby stood next to the chair he'd been sitting in and began to gather the poker chips, stacking them in piles. Irene's cheeks cooled slightly and she wedged the playing cards back in to their box.  
  
Both of them knew something had to be said. Neither could stand the silence, but neither could think of anything to say. Bobby knew what Irene was thinking. She was a close friend, and he could read her easily. He just didn't know how he felt about what she was thinking. He liked her, was attracted to her, if he thought about her like that. She was intelligent, beautiful, had a wonderful laugh that came easily. She was also on the rebound, her engagement just recently broken. He didn't know if he wanted to trade the friendship he had with her for a physical one that would certainly end. And probably end badly.  
  
Bobby gathered the rest of the chips, carrying them to the counter where the others had left theirs. Irene came up behind him, her perfume announcing her presence. She ran her hands over his back, feeling the muscles jump at her touch. She ran her hands up to his shoulders, and across to his neck, her fingers gliding over the skin his shirt left exposed. Bobby turned around quickly, suddenly. He took her face into his hands, his fingers sinking deep in to her hair. The intensity was more than Irene had expected and again she felt herself flush under his scrutiny. He lowered his face to hers, moved his head as if to kiss her, but withdrew abruptly, but only slightly, his eyes scanning her face. Again, he brought her closer, not stopping this time, his mouth covering hers. He moved his hands from her face, caressed her neck, then wrapped her up in his arms. Her breath gave way as she too wrapped her arms around him, her fingers clutching his hair. The kiss that had begun so swiftly, feverently, took its time winding down. Neither wanted to break the link, wanting the kiss to last as long as possible. Each time Irene felt the slightest movement away, she tightened her arms, grasping at Bobby's shoulders. But, as all good things do, it ended. Bobby pulled his head away from Irene's. Her eyes opened, immediately finding his gaze. She ran her palms down his chest, her eyes asking the question she would speak, if only she had the breath. Images inundated Bobby's mind. Images of Irene, her hair splayed against his pillow, her eyes closed, teeth biting her lower lip. The taste of her skin flooded his mouth, the sent of her hair filled his every breath. With a deep sigh and sadness in his eyes he said "I'm sorry. I just can't."  
  
She lowered her head in defeat, resting her forehead against his chest. "I kind of thought you'd say that. But a girl's got to try, doesn't she?" They were silent for a moment, Bobby rubbed her back, but there was only kindliness, no passion. "To soon, huh?" She asked, her words muffled a little.  
  
"Yeah. A little to soon. I don't want . . ." He started to explain.  
  
"I know." She interrupted. Lifting her head, she looked him straight in the eye "I know." She repeated, then patted his chest lightly with one hand. He let go of her, and she moved away, back toward the table. Picking up her purse, she headed to his front door.  
  
"Irene. . ." he called after her.  
  
She stopped, turning only halfway, letting her hair block the part of her face closest to him.  
  
"Maybe . . maybe some-:" he began, but she cut him off.  
  
"Sorry Goren. You had your chance." With that, she swiped her hair out of her face and gave him a smile, letting him know they were back to being friends, and always would be. Turning back toward the door, she walked herself outside, closing the door behind her. Only then did she allow the tears to start. 


End file.
